


Reflection

by rosejailmaiden



Category: Pokemon
Genre: Gen, TW for discussions of PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-07 09:28:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4258203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosejailmaiden/pseuds/rosejailmaiden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some missions stick with you forever. An introspective chiller from Giovanni's point of view, set after the events of Team Rocket's mission at the Undersea Temple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first post on this site, and it's got a few months on it.. I'm going to be posting some of my older work here and there so if anything seems inconsistent about my writing style, please bear with me while I get this place up and running! This episode is set after the events of the Best Wishes Season 2 episodes Meloetta and the Undersea Temple and Unova's Survival Crisis and it REALLY helps if you've watched those eps- or at the very least, read a summary of them- prior to reading the fic .

_Everything is over now,_ they reassured you. _Everything is going to be okay now._

That was the first lie they told you, as you shook silently the entire flight home. You pretended to be composed, fought every nerve in your body to hold desperately to what little dignity you felt you had left, agreed that you were safe the minute you left the temple.

Then you found yourself knocking your secretary’s compact mirror out of her hand in a fit of panic, found yourself warning her with words that seemed absurd removed from the situation - those things are dangerous – but in the deepest part of your mind, seemed perfectly reasonable and even necessary at the moment, found out how wrong everything was.

_Do you see how disgusting you truly are?_

You heard the words, whispered by a voice your own, but _not_ your own, taunting you from the back of your subconcious. The words you heard before your rescue.

_In the end, you’ve failed, every time._

It wasn’t supposed to be that way, it never was. The ancients were all but destroyed by the mirror’s power, that was true, but you were immune to that, you were promised. You have technology they never even dreamed of, you have more power than they themselves could ever imagine.

After all, what’s just a fairy and a mirror to you and your vast power?

_Everything you’ve ever done has been for nothing._

You were so sure you’d won. You were so sure you’d managed to harness power those before you never could. That you, a human being, could manage the feat of controlling the gods of the sky itself, and succeed.

And then one misstep reminded you of your own worthless mortality.

_In the end, you are nothing too._

The things you saw in there were inhuman, but you knew what you saw was inside of you. Somewhere. Just as the true forms of the forces of nature were unholy abominations, claws and wings and talons where they were never meant to be, so was yours, and yet you still knew it to be yourself.

The knowledge was unbearable.

_So why waste your time trying?_

Arceus have mercy, it almost took you. The agony of feeling yourself slipping away, as that twisted thing in the glass took over your body- or was it in control all along?- the burning sensation on your forehead, red hot, as the spell’s runes consumed you, and hearing that song, that infernal song you’d heard just moments before. It was considered the most beautiful in the world by everyone else, but you knew the true, terrifying power behind it now. Even though it had stopped after the summoning, it rang clearer than anything, and through the eyes of whatever your body had become, you could see Meloetta. Freed by the meddling children, while in a sick irony, you yourself were imprisoned. You felt yourself melt away as you tried desperately to cling to the last bits of your worldly self…

_Just destroy everything. Burn it all to the ground._

Now you’re here. Trying to pretend it never happened, even though it’s clear you can’t escape.

The compact mirror incident was just the start. You came to your senses and apologized to her, said you didn’t know what had come over you. Then in your exhaustion, you nodded off at your desk for just a few moments, only to find yourself shaken awake by your assistant, told you were screaming about destuction. The nightmares returned that night. On top of that, you spent the next few days avoiding mirrors until your abnormally unkempt appearance could no longer be explained away with “spending an all-nighter on some loose ends.”

You took a few weeks away from the office to try and recover, and left any affairs to your secretary.

Your most trusted scientist found what he- and you- were sure would be an effective treatment, something to calm your nerves and help you rest. You were sure after the fifth dreamless night of sleep in a row, after you could look at- and in- a mirror without feeling your pulse race, you were finally free of it all.

You thought you were. And for a few more days, it held, until the events at the temple were all but a memory.

And then you were alone in your office, sorting through some business, and you could hear it, echoing in your skull, so faintly.

The song.

Gods, anything but the song. You put on some music to try and drown it out, and eventually succeeded, but you spent the rest of that day on edge.

And then that night, you found brushing your teeth an ordeal, rushing through just to get away from your bathroom mirror. Just an ordinary, mundane mirror, nothing magical about it, but you didn’t feel right even being in the same room.

Then the storm came. A normal occurrence that time of year, but still enough to keep you awake that night for fear of what terrors might return in slumber.

_Destroy it all._

And so the reminders began again. Now they’re not as terrible as they were right after the incident, but they’re still enough to leave you shaken. You’ve finally accepted your fate, the consequence of trying to control the forces of nature.

And every time you pass a mirror, every time you hear a thunderstorm on the distance, or feel winter’s chill, the song starts echoing, you feel a faint burning sensation on your forehead, and that otherwordly voice sounds again, clearer than ever, so you and only you can hear it.

_Destroy it._

You got off easy, you remember being told. There were rumors of Reveal Glass users being sucked into the world of the glass itself, their bodies claimed completely by their true forms. You managed to escape before it was too late.

But as you clutch your hand to your burning forehead and try to drown everything out, as your secretary rushes to your side to ask you if you’re alright, you can’t help but wonder how much longer you have before the abomination takes over.

_Destroy._


End file.
